


dinner party

by mXrtis



Category: EverymanHYBRID, Slender mythos, Slenderseries - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Gore, Surrealism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 14:34:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3450692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mXrtis/pseuds/mXrtis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You're standing in the woods, looking up the trees seem to blend together into a mesh of green. You turn quickly, this place digs at a hint of recognition deep in your skin. You step forward and collide with a door. It's black, but if you look at it from a certain angle, it gives off slight a slight tinge of purple. Your heart sits in your throat; the door opens. You walk through it, your body kicks into autopilot, even now it's controlling you. Evidently, you were walking too slowly because all of a sudden you're sitting in a chair. It's at one end of a long, wooden table. You, the one wearing your skin, sit at the other end. Between the two of you is your dead friend, Jeff, charred and flayed, the smell of burning hair hangs heavy in the room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	dinner party

You're standing in the woods, looking up the trees seem to blend together into a mesh of green. You turn quickly, this place digs at a hint of recognition deep in your skin. You step forward and collide with a door. It's black, but if you look at it from a certain angle, it gives off slight a slight tinge of purple. Your heart sits in your throat; the door opens. You walk through it, your body kicks into autopilot, even now it's controlling you. Evidently, you were walking too slowly because all of a sudden you're sitting in a chair. It's at one end of a long, wooden table. You, the one wearing your skin, sit at the other end. Between the two of you is your dead friend, Jeff, charred and flayed, the smell of burning hair hangs heavy in the room.

"Nice of you to join us," He smiles(pulling back your flesh, your muscles, in a pitiable caricature of you), runs ~~his~~ your tongue over YOUR teeth, "Took ya long enough." He rolls his neck and leans forward, pushing his elbow into the table and leaning against his hand. With his free hand, he absentmindedly spins a knife at the place in front of him.

He snaps back to sitting up straight, "Let's talk business."

You try to reply, but your words catch in your throat.

"I have a lot of important things to deal with and you keep throwing a wrench in them." He stands up and paces back and forth, "Now, I get where you're coming from, you're probably attached to your flesh suit. 'S a bit of a downgrade for me, but you win some, lose some. Anyway, I need you to stop FUCKING THIS UP FOR ME."

He stops pacing and slams both palms down on the table. (You feel a numb tingle of pain in your own hands.) He laughs.

"Now I tried co-piloting, but that shit just doesn't work," He sighed, dramatically, "You don't know what I do for you. Do you know how many times you would've died WITHOUT ME?"

"MAYBE I-" You start coughing.

He makes air quotes, ""Maybe you-" what?" Your body lurches forward with the intensity of the coughs. He stands next to you now.

"Cat got your tongue?" He laughs loudly, then his voice drops low, husky, "Put your goddamn fingers in your mouth."

You comply because compliance is better than letting him do it for you. Your fingers catch on something hard and you pull. You gag, then you look down at what's in your hands. Your fingers go limp and you vomit onto the ground. He pats you on the back; you look up and run your hands through your hair. On the table in front of you is a shattered half of a bone. It's small, marked up with little scratches, bite-marks, perhaps. He's sitting on the other side of the table now. You gag again, taste bile in your throat.

"You were saying?"

You lean your head down on the table, "No. No. No. No." You cross your arms over your head; you can hear him breathing behind you. He grabs a chunk of your hair in his hands and pulls you up. Two more of him stand off to the side, the one to the right places a platter, a fancy one with the cover, in front of you. The one on the left lifts the cover off. On the platter is a baby, your baby.

You grit your teeth, "Fuck you." He tears your head back even farther, the back of your neck presses into the wood of the top of the chair, your eyes meet.

"Now, I have to go for a while. Can I trust you to keep the place tidy?" He pokes you between the eyes, "Play nice with Vin-" Jeff gasps, your eyes move towards the noise. He lets out an anguished scream; the smell of fire fills the room and you remember this. You remember it all.

"YOU." His head swivels quickly and he points at Jeff, "SHUT THE FUCK UP."

Your head falls forward and you fall farther than you expected. You hit the ground and your eyes shoot open. You're lying in the kitchen on the tile floor. Vinnie is asleep in one of the chairs at the table.


End file.
